Musings on marketing, pop culture and life in general.

February 05, 2012

So Long, Farewell.

So long, sweet house

Yesterday I went down to my old house and cleared out the few remaining things that I had left. A few weeks ago, I sold my house (while on a girls trip to Vegas - in between In-N-Out Burger and Nobu, I frantically faxed signed agreements from an Office Max). My house stopped being a home a year ago - when I moved up to Yonge and Lawrence with my Baby Daddy and his 3 (now 4!) kids. I rented it for a year, and when my renters gave notice in November, it just seemed like the right time to sell.

As I walked through the house, opening cupboards and checking closets for the last time, I found myself surprisingly emotional. I loved that house, that home. It was all mine - purchased with my hard earned money, and loved and cared for by me alone. I love (loved!) my garden that I worked so hard on, moving plants and trying new things every year. I love the way the sunlight streamed in my bedroom window in the mid-afternoon, making it perfect for an afternoon nap. I love my kitchen, that I designed and renovated, with shiny stainless steel appliances and my amazing island. And my porch, renovated and painted with soft greens and yellows that made summer evenings a delight. I even will miss my slightly dilapadated 'garage' that stored my beloved VW Silver Sam.

Some of the things that the house went through with me: three employers, too many mediocre dates, lots of Rockband, five years of Love Actually at Christmas, the introduction of my PVR (iloveyouPVR), Gatsby getting grey, a kitchen reno, painting hallways precariously perched on the upstairs railing, a backyard reno (i will miss that patio!) and so much more. It was my second baby (Gatsby first, Avery third) and I am having a hard time imagining some else in it.

But - it's sold. I signed the papers and handed over my shiny hardwood floors and slightly crooked staircase to someone else. It closes at the end of February, but yesterday was the real goodbye. I shut off the light and closed the door and walked down the porch for the last time and said a word of thanks to 4 Murdock, for keeping me safe and helping me create a life that led me to where I am today. I hope that the new owner loves and cares for it as much as I did.

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So Long, Farewell.

So long, sweet house

Yesterday I went down to my old house and cleared out the few remaining things that I had left. A few weeks ago, I sold my house (while on a girls trip to Vegas - in between In-N-Out Burger and Nobu, I frantically faxed signed agreements from an Office Max). My house stopped being a home a year ago - when I moved up to Yonge and Lawrence with my Baby Daddy and his 3 (now 4!) kids. I rented it for a year, and when my renters gave notice in November, it just seemed like the right time to sell.

As I walked through the house, opening cupboards and checking closets for the last time, I found myself surprisingly emotional. I loved that house, that home. It was all mine - purchased with my hard earned money, and loved and cared for by me alone. I love (loved!) my garden that I worked so hard on, moving plants and trying new things every year. I love the way the sunlight streamed in my bedroom window in the mid-afternoon, making it perfect for an afternoon nap. I love my kitchen, that I designed and renovated, with shiny stainless steel appliances and my amazing island. And my porch, renovated and painted with soft greens and yellows that made summer evenings a delight. I even will miss my slightly dilapadated 'garage' that stored my beloved VW Silver Sam.

Some of the things that the house went through with me: three employers, too many mediocre dates, lots of Rockband, five years of Love Actually at Christmas, the introduction of my PVR (iloveyouPVR), Gatsby getting grey, a kitchen reno, painting hallways precariously perched on the upstairs railing, a backyard reno (i will miss that patio!) and so much more. It was my second baby (Gatsby first, Avery third) and I am having a hard time imagining some else in it.

But - it's sold. I signed the papers and handed over my shiny hardwood floors and slightly crooked staircase to someone else. It closes at the end of February, but yesterday was the real goodbye. I shut off the light and closed the door and walked down the porch for the last time and said a word of thanks to 4 Murdock, for keeping me safe and helping me create a life that led me to where I am today. I hope that the new owner loves and cares for it as much as I did.